


Snapchat and Chill

by VodkaKevin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abaddon is a Piece of Shit, Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Castiel, Balthazar Flirts, Castiel/Dean Winchester Flirting, College Student Castiel, College Student Dean, College Student Sam, Concerned Castiel, Dean Realises He Is a Homosexual, Dean is a Tease, Endless internal monologues, Fluff, Gabriel Ships It, Gabriel is a Tease, Gabriel is a wingman, Implied Sabriel, M/M, Scott Pilgrim References, Snapchat, Socially Awkward Castiel, This Was Supposed to Be a Oneshot wtf, To Be Continued
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:36:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5859988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VodkaKevin/pseuds/VodkaKevin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After pressure from his brothers, Cas downloads Snapchat, and is added by EyeOfTheTiger69, aka Dean Winchester. Encouraged by everybody's favourite wingman, Gabriel Novak, the pair begin to get closer, thanks to 'everybody's favourite app'. But when Dean manages to land himself in danger, can Cas overcome his social anxiety to help his newfound - and incredibly attractive - friend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapchat and Chill

**Author's Note:**

> 'Sup!   
> So this fic was prompted by Itch aka synergygabriel: where Dean and Cas get to know each other through Snapchat!! It was originally meant to be a 2k word fic buuut it's now at 6k and I have enough plotlines still ongoing that I'll be continuing it past this chapter so stay tuned!!

   Cas couldn’t deny it; he loved his room at college. A number of different halls were scattered around the main campus. Two of his brothers, Lucifer and Gabriel Novak, were in one hall, around a ten minute walk away from the main lecture halls but only two minutes away from McDonalds, so naturally Gabriel never complained. Balthazar, his third brother’s hall was part of the same building where most of the formal social events took place, and he certainly took advantage of this, attending all of the different themed nights and balls in varying degrees of three-piece suits and ties. The moment you stepped into the building of Castiel’s halls, however, the only sound you could hear was water brushing gently over pebbles outside – and he was lucky to have a room that overlooked this same river. He placed on his phone on the windowsill and gazed out at the undergrowth. He hadn’t wanted to allude to such a cliché, but with examples in front of him, he couldn’t deny it: Dean Winchester’s eyes really _were_ the colour of spring fauna. He sighed. A cool breeze skimmed his cheek.

   What was this feeling? This strange, swelling feeling in his stomach, that had begun since Dean Winchester had looked at him, just two and a half hours ago. Perhaps, he reasoned, he was actually sick. He had been struck with some kind of infection that you could only get from making eye contact with someone, and now his stomach was slowly filling up with fluid. _Reason #78 why to never interact with people,_ he thought to himself dryly. No, what was _wrong_ with him wasn’t any kind of illness. Inside, he knew what it was. Admitting it though... that was another task. He pursed his lips, pushing the air out carefully between them. Then he unlocked his phone and accepted Dean’s request, on the app that had started all of this. As he did, he cast his mind back to lunch earlier on that day. When everything had started to unravel. Because that was when he’d met Dean. When Dean looked at him. When Dean _smiled_ at him.  All because of one app.

* * *

 

 It was when his brothers couldn’t even have a conversation at the canteen table during lunch that Castiel caved in and decided to join in with the new farce that seemed to have gripped college. He first accidentally searched for ‘Snapchap’ on the app store, but it was one rather patronising ‘ _Did you mean Snapchat?’_ and a few choice words muttered under his breath later, that he had actually come across the app. He sighed as Gabriel pulled Balthazar towards him and the pair took the most grotesque photo of themselves that Castiel had ever seen (and that was _saying_ something). Lucifer slouched in the seat on his right, practically with his back to him; he kept flapping the loose, unbuttoned side of his shirt out of the way to send what seemed like the entire college a picture of his new tattoo. Why he had decided, Castiel wondered, to get a _cage_ tattooed across his heart, he would probably never know.

  “I got the app,” he said, as his whiskey-haired older brother finished swiping and tapping the screen of his Samsung S5 Mini. Gabriel looked over at him, frowning.

   “What’d you say, little brother?”

  “I said I got the app. Snapchat.” 

Gabriel grinned, and that’s when Castiel’s stomach started to knot in an all-too familiar way. The older boy cupped a hand over his ear – a pantomime performer whose act became mind-numbingly frustrating for those that had a mental age of over about four.

  “What was that?” Gabriel giggled, “Can’t hear you when you mumble.” Both Balthazar and Lucifer smirked in quick succession. Castiel’s glare darted between his brothers, hoping that his scowl conveyed every drop of rage he felt towards them.

  “I said!” he retorted, “I fucking got Snapchat, okay?”

  The problem with Castiel was that when he got angry, his voice seemed to project outwards with an alarming strength. Gabriel blanched for a moment, eyes darting between Castiel and the rest of the canteen – and as the younger boy’s awareness externalised, he realised why this was. The tables around the Novaks had gone entirely silent at the sound of Cas’ outcry, several heads swivelling towards them. Heat flew into Castiel’s face. He ducked his head over his tray. If he played this right, perhaps he could pretend he didn’t exist.

  “Did you say you have Snapchat?” Of course, no such luck; from his eyesight, Castiel was aware of a pair of bright red doc martens approaching the table he shared with his brothers. He looked up. A slender girl with a nose the literal size of Rhode Island approached Castiel from the table next to them. “What’s your username?”

  “Um…” Castiel pressed a hand against one cheek, praying that this would somehow calm the raging pink that now flooded his otherwise porcelain skin. “CasNovak76.”

   Lucifer spluttered. “You fuckin kidding me? That’s a _pathetic_ username, Cas.” He looked up at the girl, grinning wolfishly. “Name’s FallenAngel666.”

  “Oh _puh-lease,”_ Balthazar’s lilting tone reached across the table to join in the conversation. Cas turned and glared at him, but it wasn’t like he was paying attention to what his younger brother thought – then again, when was he ever? “ISankTheTitanic. I’m rather proud of it,” he said, resting his hand beneath his chin and grinning at the girl. Cas frowned. Balthazar _never_ flirted with girls, thanks to an interest in an alternative gender.

  “Balthazar, why are you acting like you’re straight?” Cas said bluntly. A beat of silence. The bony, blonde-haired Novak stared at him in sudden horror; Gabriel exploded into spatters of laughter next to him. Speaking of the whiskey-haired prankster, Castiel glanced over at him, to see that his brother was instead eyeing something hovering over the younger boy’s left shoulder. He was about to turn his head when the girl spoke again.

  “Oh, _great!”_ she exclaimed, and her voice had a strange squeakiness to it that reminded Cas of fingernails grating down a chalkboard. Not only that, she seemed to have been completely oblivious to the remarks Lucifer had made to Castiel, and Cas to Balthazar. She continued, eyes smarting animatedly. “My name is BeckyWinchester189. I’ll add you all! TheRealCasaErotica, FallenAngel666, ISankTheTitanic and CasNovak76, right?”

  “Becky _Winchester?_ Didn’t know you were part of the family.” A voice that reminded Castiel of some kind of mixture of dark, lacquered wood and velvet suddenly chimed out from behind him – and as it did, Gabriel’s eyes dilated. Whatever – or whoever – he’d been staring at before, was obviously directly behind the younger boy. Bracing himself for nothing but complete horror, Castiel turned around slowly.

  “Oh! I-uh- _no!_ No it’s not like that, I promise!” Becky was jabbering shrilly at a pair of boys, both of which towered over her in terms of height – which wasn’t hard, considering the fact that she can only have been about five foot two, but these boys _definitely_ passed as safely over the six foot mark. Shaggy chestnut hair swaying a little as he did, the slightly taller one turned to look at his ash-blonde companion, whose pixie-like eyes sparkled with sudden mischief. Castiel’s knees bunched under the table in an attempt to stand up, to go and help this girl from this obvious embarrassment, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Don’t ruin this for me, bro,” Gabriel hissed, before rising himself and swaggering over to the boys. Lucifer groaned audibly.

  “Fuck this shit, I’m out,” he said, rising and heading towards the bathroom at the other end of the cafeteria. Cas followed him with his eyes for a moment, before returning to the action, where Gabriel had now rolled up his jacket sleeves. Balthazar groaned audibly next to him, muttering a “See ya later,” to Castiel before also getting up to follow Lucifer: Gabriel had the elbows out, which could only mean one thing, and one thing only. And it was always, _always,_ embarrassing to watch.

  “And do you two _fine_ boys happen to have this favourable Snapchat app as well?” the Novak practically sung, resting a hand on Becky’s trembling shoulder and swinging his wrist in a full circle as he did, phone in hand. The boy with the hair looked him up and down. A small smile flitted across his face – there for only a moment, but present all the same. He pulled out his phone.

  “And what about you?” Gabriel acknowledged the other boy after adding Sam Winchester – unlike Becky, that actually _was_ his name. “Do you, like your brother, – I assume you two are brothers, amirite? Hah!” He clapped suddenly as the two affirmed his suspicions with a one-word answer. “Thought so! What’s _your_ username?”

  “Sure,” the older Winchester said in a mellow voice, spinning his phone in his hand with a surprising lack of effort, “EyeOfTheTiger69. Add me, _TheRealCasaErotica_.” There was _definitely_ a measure of sarcasm in his voice as he pronounced Gabriel’s username, obviously overheard from all of Becky’s squeaking. Cas could feel a smile starting to tease at the corner of his lips – but the rug was pulled out from feet as a strange unfamiliar jolt slammed into the pit of Castiel’s stomach; Dean Winchester’s gaze was now settled on him instead.

  “Sweet,” Gabriel’s voice seemed less of a sound, and more of a vibration, as Cas found himself taking tentative first steps into two identical forests of a deep, spring green – and Cas had known nothing like this before; known nothing about how eyes could literally surround you, draw you in. So _captivating_. His lips parted unconsciously, as if he, Castiel Novak, actually had the _guts_ to say anything to this other boy. And just like that, it was all shattered, as Castiel’s brother jolted the Winchester boy, clapped a hand on each brother’s shoulder simultaneously and “Remember to accept my friend request, okay boys?” Cas blinked, gaze darting back towards his brother, who still had one hand resting on Sam’s shoulder. Without warning, his phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket – a rare occurrence for someone who spent more time avoiding people than he did doing anything else.

_EyeOfTheTiger69 (Dean Winchester) has added you!_

So it _wasn’t_ just Gabriel’s username the boys had overheard from Becky.

   The blush was starting to graze Cas’ cheekbones again. He looked back over at the boy. Dean was giving him a strange half smile.

  “C’mon Sam,” he said, nudging his brother, “I gotta grab stuff from my room before class starts again.”

   Sam turned back to Gabe. “Well it was great to meet you Gabriel,” he said, smiling, “I’ll see ya around, yeah?”

  “Sure thing!” Gabriel replied, and as the pair turned and began to head towards the exit, he called out in a song-song voice, “I EXPECT NUDES, SAM WINCHESTER!”

   Sam froze for a moment, turning back to the older Novak. Then he sent a wink in Gabriel’s general direction, and followed his brother out into the spring air.

   Gabriel practically pirouetted on the spot, punching the air.

  “He shoots, he _scores!!”_ he exclaimed, dropping back down into his seat and returning to his half-finished cake slice. That’s how you _knew_ the Winchesters had been worth Gabriel Novak’s time – he only left dessert on two conditions: one, if absolutely _forced to -_ and only then, the only person who could make him do anything was Castiel, and that’s only because he played his cards right to make Gabriel think he was doing this _for the greater good,_ rather than for the sheer prospect of absolutely _having_ to. And two, if he spied a guy he found attractive. Castiel still hadn’t looked up at his phone, staring at the request with a slightly dazed expression.

   “So how’s it feel to actually use your phone for something _other_ than texting Dad?” An arm suddenly slung round his neck. Looking up, Castiel found himself glaring up at Lucifer.

  “You returned,” he said, flatly. Lucifer grinned.

  “Didn’t want to accidentally cockblock my brother here,” he said, shooting a quick, knowing yet utterly emotionless grin at Gabriel. Gabe simply raised his eyebrows, tapping away. Probably already looking Sam Winchester up on Facebook already, knowing him. Before Castiel could make some internal remark to himself about his brother’s fixation, however, Gabriel spoke again, a certain _grin_ starting to creep onto his face. “I’m not the only one making an endeavour on a Winchester here.”  

   Cas’ hand flew down onto the top of his phone, all too aware of the alert still hovering cheerfully on his screen. Lucifer’s gaze turned from mocking to complete bemusement as it left Gabriel and landed hard on his youngest brother – and who could blame him? Castiel had _never_ shown interest in anyone. The last thing Cas needed though was kind of _intervention_ with something like this. If Dean found out, he’d be the talk of the college. He knew it. He’d never live it down. Genuinely.

  “I don’t think that’s the case at all,” he said, shoving the phone into his pockets, “I’ve never even had a conversation with the guy. I only met him five minutes ago. So _shut up, all of you_.” A few globules of spit flew from his lips at these last few words. One of them splashed against Gabriel’s cheek; he closed his eyes in exhasperation. Lucifer, however, grinned, bearing his teeth a little, and Cas felt his heart sink. This was Lucifer’s I-don’t-believe-a-word-you’re-saying-and-I-know-you-don’t-either smile – and before Cas could say anymore, he stood up.

  “Later, you two,” he said, grabbing his tray. “And remember to use protection, Castiel!” he called over his shoulder.

The youngest Novak felt his heart sink. The friend request still glowed cheerfully on his phone screen.

* * *

 

   Castiel’s eyes fluttered open again. How everything had managed to change so quickly, after just downloading _one app,_ he would never understand. He glanced down at his phone again. The friendship request from Dean was now accepted. Now what?

   It didn’t take long: after around ten minutes, Cas’ phone buzzed again.

_New snapchat from EyeOfTheTiger69!_

   With suddenly-trembling hands, the Novak opened it. That same fucking half-smile, the one that sent strange shivers skittering along Castiel’s shoulders, along with a pair of sparkling green eyes that were indeed, the colour of nature. The caption simply read _Hey._

   Cas turned the front camera on himself, but stopped suddenly. His hair was all over the place, and probably needed a wash. A smattering of spots rested on his chin from where he had last shaved. The shadows under his eyes might as well have been purplish bruises. He sighed and turned the front camera at his desk, covered in useless handouts from lectures.

_Hello Dean. How are you?_

   The response came around 30 seconds later: his face again, this time, eyes glancing off to one side, two fingers aimed at the camera as if he were pointing an imaginary gun.

_Great thanks. You?_

  It took Castiel 8 seconds – the amount of time that Dean’s picture displayed for, to realise that he had stopped breathing. He frowned. Then he aimed his camera towards the window instead, focusing on the river outside, where a few ducks were floating absent-mindedly.

_Not bad. Tired, I suppose._

_Glad you’re doin okay._ A picture in response of the same river, except a little further downstream, and taken from the other side. Wait – did Dean live on West Campus too? Castiel pressed his nose against the glass, trying to position himself to see towards where he guessed Dean’s room might be situated, based on the angle from where he’d sent the snapchat. He would have opened the window, but the fear of signalling to the Winchester where _he_ lived – hell, having the boy _show up here,_ with that grin that made Cas feel so strange - was too strong. According to what Cas had managed to see of the picture before it disappeared, the river was flowing to the right, meaning that he lived on the opposite side of the bank, where two of the peach-coloured, four-storey houses were situated – Cas guessed that he lived in the one further away from his own. The sunlight was reflecting off the glass, meaning that he wasn’t able to see anybody inside their rooms, but it was evidence enough that Dean was nearby. His stomach swirled with nerves. Communicating with him was one thing; living close enough to see him regularly was another. His phone buzzed again. Another Snapchat from Dean.

_How can you be tired?? It’s only 5pm!_ Dean’s face again, this time scratching his head and knitting his eyebrows together in an attempt to illustrate confusion.

_I’m not much of a night owl, it seems._ Once again, a picture of Cas’ desk. Dean responded with yet another confused expression.

_Did ya lose your face?_

   Cas frowned. He wasn’t sure whether Dean was being jokey or making fun of him here.

_My face looks terrible right now. Hence the Snapchats of my room instead._

_Well I think you’re cute._

A jolt; Cas pressed and held to replay. Dean was staring straight into the camera with those bright green eyes; not a single hint of sarcasm. Perhaps he was just a good actor. Yes, that had to be it. There was no way that Dean was being serious. Not after how he had made a fool out of himself in the canteen today.

He hit the lock button on his phone and swallowed hard, before sinking into his desk chair and staring hard at the wall in front of him.

* * *

 

   Dean Winchester fucking hated 9ams.

   His eyes felt impossibly heavy as the lecturer droned on in front of him about something to do with some kind of calculation that he was probably supposed to know, but didn’t care about. To be fair, he’d probably give more of a fuck if he’d gotten into bed sometime _before_ 3am, but hey – it was superhero-themed night down at the local club, and Dean wasn’t one to say no to a night out; he had a _reputation_ to keep up here. That being said, it seemed like the worst idea he ever could have possibly had after just four hours of sleep. He sighed and closed his eyes. Only one thing to do now: ride out the storm and wait for it to be over.

   The bell jolted him awake, and he was quick to gather up his stuff and shuffle out after the rest of the students. A few people called hello to him across the theatre: his study partner Kevin Tran, who had saved his stupid ass this semester _so many_ times already, as well as his childhood friend Jo Harvelle, who flashed him a toothy grin, before disappearing through the door. Speaking of which… Dean changed direction at the last moment, meaning to catch up with Jo before she disappeared into the bubbling throng in the corridor. The pair hadn’t seen each other properly since they started college over a year ago, thanks to Jo’s hectic social life and demanding course in engineering. And yet, as Dean strode towards the door, his path was blocked by a sudden flurry of lightly curled ginger hair, an hourglass figure wrapped in a black tshirt, leather jacket and skinny jeans, and red lipstick so bright it practically burnt Dean’s eyes out.

  “Hey handsome,” the girl said, raking his body with a flirtatious smile that curved a little as her gaze settled on Dean’s face. The older Winchester frowned at her.

  “Do I know you?” he said. The girl’s smile widened.

  “You sure do, after last night.” She placed a hand on his arm; Dean instantly took a step back. He smirked, trying to keep the sudden panic from settling on his features.

  “I think you must be confusing me with someone else,” he said, trying to step past her, but she grabbed his arm again.

  “I certainly am not, Dean Winchester,” she purred, once again exploring his body with her eyes, “don’t you remember? We fucked in the-”

  “Okay, listen here.” Dean placed a firm finger on her lips, stifling the words that sent horror flooding through him. He couldn’t help but feel his lips twist into a strange snarl. “What I do when I’m drunk? Has _nothing,_ and I repeat, _nothing_ to do with me when I’m sober. So any weirdass ideas you’ve got – any expectations you think you have for me, or for us, I can tell you _right now_ that they are _wrong.”_ Her devilish grin was starting to fade now. “I am _not interested_ in repeating whatever it was that we did last night. Understand?”

  “Erm… Dean? Am I… interrupting something?” A familiar voice that Dean could only describe as having the consistency of butterscotch floated in from the left. Giving the strange ginger girl a last, filthy look he turned his head to see Gabriel Novak standing there, wearing a russet jacket that looked very similar to Sam’s, hands in his pockets.

  “No, not at all,” Dean growled, “in fact, I was just leaving.”

  “Oh great!” The sandy-haired boy replied chirpily, “I’ll walk with you.”

Dean frowned. He was ninety nine percent sure that Gabriel wasn’t, and never had been, in his calculus class, but hey. This was _Gabriel_ he was talking about, and judging by the impression he’d gotten from him yesterday, it seemed that he did as he pleased. Repositioning the bag on his back, Dean and this strange new friend of his left the lecture theatre.

  “So, Dean-o,” Gabriel started in a strange, lighthearted voice, and that’s when Dean knew that he was in for it. “What do you think of my brother, Cas?”

   Dean’s gaze slid sideways to the older Novak. “What do you mean?”

  “Well.” Gabriel smiled slightly, eyes trained straight ahead. “I mean that you two seemed to spend a _lot_ of time snapchatting each other yesterday.”   
  “How do you know-“

  “I happened to look over his shoulder as he refreshed the app at dinner last night and saw they were _all from you.”_ Gabriel’s gaze flickered over to Dean’s. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the Novak boy was smiling slightly. Dean felt a strange prickling sensation pass over his cheekbones.

  “Oh, really?” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Well that’s-“

  “Dean, are you a homosexual?”

   Dean spluttered. “No! No, what do you… No!”

   Gabriel didn’t even miss a beat. “Because my brother is most definitely a homosexual, he just doesn’t realise it yet. The last thing I’d want to think is that you’re leading him on.”

  Dean stopped in his tracks, grabbing Gabriel by the shoulder. “Look, Gabriel, I am _definitely_ not leading him on. I’m… not gay, okay?”

   Gabriel looked him up and down. “Sure. Anyway, keep snapchatting and… sleeping with crazy ginger bitches.” He winked, starting to head in the opposite direction from which they’d come, back towards the lecture theatre. “Kidding. I don’t blame ya for dropping that one. Oh, and Dean-o?” He was shouting down the hallway now. “There’s nothing wrong with being gay. Just sayin’, bro.”

   Dean turned and began to walk slowly away, feeling the prickles begin to rub up and down his cheekbones again. He stuffed his hands in his pockets – and that’s when he felt his phone buzz.

_New snapchat from CasNovak76_

* * *

   Cas sat cross-legged on a chair in the communal kitchen he shared with five other people – all of which were either asleep or in lectures now. A half-forgotten bowl of cereal sat in front of him. Dean had been sending him video snapchats all morning of some lecture that he was in, and his commentary of 'I'M SO BORED/I'M SO TIRED/WE COVERED THIS PROBABLY BEFORE I WASN'T LISTENING THEN AND I'M STILL NOT LISTENING NOW' was keeping Cas entertained. However, when he replied with _'Just listen then Dean'_ , the older Winchester responded with the million dollar question: _'I will when you send me pictures of you, rather than your kitchen_ '. He felt himself quiver as he finally turned the front camera on himself and looked at his reflection. The sunlight from the window spilt haphazardly across his facial expression, making him look a little pastier than usual. His 'aesthetic' as Balthazar would describe it, was most definitely a local, disgruntled vampire. Maybe Dean would appreciate it. He sincerely hoped so. His fingers hesitated over the send button. Then with a sigh, he pushed down on the screen.

   Dean tapped the Snapchat and stumbled. Finally, _finally,_ the eccentric Castiel Novak had sent him a picture of his face – and all rabbit in headlights cafeteria facades aside, he was undecidedly attractive. A ray of sunlight highlighted his features in a strange, rugged way, and there was no denying that the guy needed to learn how to use a hairbrush, but something about his unkempt appearance made him all the more... Dean leaned against the wall, suddenly breathing heavily. All the more _gorgeous._

  _“There's nothing wrong with being gay, Dean.”_

   He shoved his phone in his pocket and changed direction again, trying to quell the dizzying feeling bubbling within him.

   Castiel watched Dean open the Snapchat. The seconds ticked by – he didn't realise until his lungs were burning that he was holding his breath. Nothing. Nothing in return. He guessed Dean agreed with his derogatory perception of himself _._ Sighing, Cas locked his phone and stared into the mush that, once, was cereal. Could anyone really blame him? The way Dean Winchester looked, he could easily have _anyone –_ and besides, who was to say that he was gay in the first place? He'd watched the way the boy had turned the girls' heads in the canteen. He could have _anyone._ Cas moved to, he didn’t know, bash his head against the wall – just at the same time as his phone buzzed again.

_New snapchat from EyeoftheTiger69!_

   Cas stared at his phone like it was some kind of extremely poisonous snake. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Oh god. Oh god almighty.

   Scrambling to unlock his phone, Cas tapped the little pink box to open up the first. Dean’s lopsided smile, framed by his straw-coloured hair.

_You’re cute. Send more of those._

   Colour flooded Cas’ ears. He aimed the camera at himself. Smiled. To him, he still looked like he’d been run over with some kind of exceptionally large hamster wheel, but apparently it made Dean happy.

_Thanks. So-_ Cas paused for a moment. No, he could do this. With his fear of front-facing cameras conquered today, what was stopping him from breaking through yet more pain barriers? He stared back down at the photo of himself, now looking ridiculously garish, and pressed on. _So what’re you doing now?_

   Another Snapchat a few moments later. This time, of the trunk of a tree.

_Climbing this. Wanna join?_

   Cas smiled. His hand hovered over the ‘Y’ button. But wait. The idea of him scrambling up a tree… _No thanks. Sports aren’t really my thing._ A photo of the kitchen, his slipper-clad feet perched on the edge of the table. _Have fun though._

_Heh, will do Cas._ The use of his name… Cas refused to think about it. Nope. Not happening. He stretched, got to his feet, and dumped his half-finished cereal next to the sink, before trudging back towards his room, wincing as the door slammed shut heavily behind him. Fire doors – probably guaranteed to have saved someone’s life once, but _god_ did they make a noise and a half. He flopped down onto his bed and reached for a book on Buddha’s teachings; 2 chapters of which he was supposed to have read by tomorrow. Every so often, he hit the ‘Home’ button on his phone to see if Dean would keep him updated with his tree-climbing adventure, but no such luck. He frowned and returned back to page 48. At least, Castiel tried to, but the problem with having a room right by a gushing river is that the sound is, whether you like it or not, eventually going to lull you into a deep slumber.

* * *

 

 

_Bzzt! Bzzt!!_

   Cas groaned as what felt like a particularly aggressive bee smoosh repeatedly against his face. He opened one eye. A thick layer of dusk was starting to filter in through the window; the book he was supposed to read on Buddha lay abandoned next to him, while his phone-

_Bzzt! Bzzt!!_

   He winced. His phone was, for some reason, squashed between his cheek and the mattress he otherwise lay on. And not only that – it kept going off. He hit the home button, squinting through the slowly fading light, and-

_New snapchat from EyeOfTheTiger69! (48)_

   In moments he was in a sitting up position, loading up the app. 48 snapchats from Dean? Was he drunk? Had someone stolen his phone? A dozen possibilities, most of which were negative, began to flow freely through the Novak boy’s mind. As the cheerful yellow loading screen disappeared, he hit the first. Tree branches.

  _So I kind of have a problem._

   A shot of Dean’s feet, dangling easily about twenty feet off the ground: _I… might be stuck here._ Dean’s face, that same lopsided grin: _And you’re the only one who knows I’m here._ Tree branches again. _Please help._ Dean’s face again, eyebrows furrowed. _Cas?_ The river, which sat about ten feet away from the tree that Dean appeared to be stuck in. _Cas please tell me you’re there._ His feet again. _Shoulda got your number. Coulda called you instead._ A couple of snapchats of the tree branches, no captions. His jaw, a now-troubled frown on his face. _Sam isn’t answering his phone._ Branches. _Cas?_

   And so they went on, each one filling Cas with more and more concern for his friend. Friend? Since when was Dean Winchester his friend? He was just some random dude that he snapchatted sometimes. Someone that you speak to across an app like this can hardly be considered a _friend._ As Cas thought this, however, the final snapchat that Dean had sent caused his stomach to lurch suddenly, as if he himself had been thrown from a tree: splashes of crimson grazing Dean’s hand, hardly visible through the evening light. It must have only been sent a couple of minutes ago. _Tried to get down. This happened._  

  “Dean?” Cas called uselessly to his phone, as if that would somehow provoke some kind of reply. His first instinct was to call the older Winchester, but of course he couldn’t – instead, he had to send back a Snapchat with shaking hands. _Are you okay??_ It felt so _mechanical,_ so _useless._ Dean could have fallen; could have really hurt himself, and he wouldn’t know. He couldn’t _really_ get through to the guy – couldn’t hear his voice to make sure if he was okay. The Snapchat sent. Delivered.

   Cas refreshed rapidly, trying to ignore the strange, frozen fire that seemed to be coursing through him suddenly. Delivered. Delivered. Why wasn’t his friend – and yes, Castiel admitted, of _course_ Dean was a friend - _opening_ it? The Novak boy slid off the bed and pressed his face against the window, trying to angle himself round to look across to where he’d previously guessed that Dean Winchester lived. There were no lights on in any of the windows. Wherever the older Winchester was, he was either out, or still trapped. Cas opened the window, perched on two hands, trying to look further down the river, trying to figure out, from what he could gather, which tree it was that Dean was stuck in. Should he call the fire brigade? Maybe Gabriel would know what to do. He grabbed his phone, and almost dropped it as it buzzed again.

_New snapchat from EyeOfTheTiger69!_

   Thank _god._

_I think I’m gonna be just fine._ The snap read – but what it was _of,_ Cas couldn’t quite tell through the dusky light that clogged up Dean’s camera. It seemed to be an upwards shot of the sky, obscured slightly by a roof, chased by the wall of a building. An open window. A face, taken from underneath, looking out to the left… As it hit Cas, a voice from below him sliced through the dusk.

  “Hey Cas.”

   Just a few feet below him, Dean Winchester’s stupid head was visible above the treetop, pulling that same lopsided grin that had got Castiel Novak into so much trouble in the first place.

* * *

 

  “You have a pretty cool room,” said Dean, glancing around at the drapes that covered the wall adjacent to Cas’ bed; the posters of yin yang symbols and alternative art. Cas walked in behind, carrying a pot of water he’d just heated on the stove, setting it down next to two chipped mugs. He turned to Dean. The subsequent question was of the utmost importance, and the answer genuinely would shape his opinion of the boy more than anything else. Trying to ignore how his hands were shaking (and not from weak wrist muscles from the pot), he opened one of the cupboards and turned to him.

  “What kind of tea do you want?” he said.

   Dean raised an eyebrow at the boy.

  “What?”

  “What kind of tea do you want, Dean?” the boy repeated. “You’ve been out in the cold, you need something to warm you up.”

  “Uhhh.” Dean’s other eyebrow joined the former a little further up his forehead. “What choice do I have?”

   Cas turned to look in the cupboard at the many boxes, having to crane his neck and stand on tiptoes to readjust one box at the back of the second shelf to read it. “We have… blueberry, raspberry, ginseng, sleepy time, green tea, green tea with lemon, green tea with lemon and honey, liver disaster, ginger with honey, ginger without honey, vanilla almond, white truffle, blueberry chamomile, vanilla walnut, constant comment and... earl grey.”

   When he turned, he didn’t expect Dean to be smiling quite as wide.

  “Guess I’ll settle with Earl Grey,” he said, sitting back on his elbows. As he did, he winced.

  “Oh, your hand,” Cas realised, as he poured two lots of water into teabag-equipped mugs. He sat next to Dean and gently tugged the older boy’s wrist into his lap. The cut thankfully wasn’t too deep – the bleeding mainly had just come from the fact that it was just a fleshy area. Cas reached into one of the drawers under his bed; pulled out a first aid kit. Tried to ignore the fact that Dean was just staring at his face, still smiling slightly. The only time this changed was when he pressed an antiseptic wipe to it.

  “How did you even manage this?” Cas said, eyes darting towards the supplies to grab a plaster.

  “Tried to be Tarzan,” Dean replied, “you weren’t replying, so I figured I had to be my own hero. As it stands though, turns out I’m Jane.” He grinned.

   Cas ducked his head, trying to hide his own smile. “I wouldn’t say so,” he said, unable to hide the smile in his voice, “you were the one in the tree. I was just staring out from my window trying to figure out where you are.”

  “Kinda like a dorky Romeo and Juliet, then?” Dean offered. Cas felt the smile slide straight off his face, glancing up to look at Dean. It was as if this was the moment Dean Winchester had been waiting for – as soon as the hazy blue eyes met those of the spring nature Cas had been gazing out at just yesterday, he had pressed his lips against Cas’. 

   Needless to say, the tea sadly went cold.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> TO BE CONTINUED: Abaddon finds out about Dean and Cas' relationship. Gabriel makes his move on Sam. THE PLOT THICKENS. xD  
> If you enjoyed this please feel free to follow me on tumblr, I'm **vodkakevin** :P and please let me know what you think!  
> 


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